I can’t hear anything

I am of course referring to Boofuls’ nightly snore fests. There’s nothing like being woken up twenty times a night thinking you’re about to be run over by a juggernaut. The noise is horrendous.

The other night I suggested gently to him that he might want to put a sock in it. He sat up.

“What?”

“Shut that bloody racket up!”

“What racket? I can’t hear anything.”

There are times………

So. Moving on. We’re down to three.

Three what? Three more weddings, one of which is today, and then I am no longer a wedding photographer and Boofuls is no longer a wedding photographers bitch.

No that I’ve been counting them down or anything but number one can’t come soon enough. It’s fair to say that the novelty of shooting weddings and working the associated twelve/fourteen hour day has worn off. It wouldn’t have been so bad if we even got properly fed and watered but apparently wedding photographers live on fresh air.

I’m ready to settle down to some good old studio work. Bring on the sprogs!